What You Fear Most
by yuffiehighwind
Summary: She asked him a question and he got an answer. Discord/Deimos.


**Story Summary:** She asked him a question and he got an answer.

 **Story Notes:** Could be a one-shot, but this is another fic in the _HTLJ_ series about Discord I posted on Archive of Our Own.

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 **What You Fear Most**

"Why a bubble?"

A blonde man in red leather paused with his ale mug nearly to his lips. He put it down and replied, "Huh?"

"Why do you vanish into a bubble? When you teleport?" The dark-haired woman questioning him took a sip of wine, batting her eyelashes. The slight upturn of her lip indicated this amused her.

The man looked thoughtful, rubbing his chin. He shrugged.

"Guess it has something to do with Ma? I dunno. What's it matter?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Why didn't I think of that sooner? She's always doing something stupid like that. Bubbles and hearts, golden sparkles. Disgusting."

The man licked his lips. "You always vanish in a purple puff ball, so don't judge, missy."

She laughed. "It used to be red, ya know. Blood red."

"Sparkly red."

"I can't really change what I look like when I 'port. I'm sure you've tried something other than that giant, turquoise party balloon. I wonder if it pops if you stab it. What would happen to you then?" She removed a small knife from her bodice. "Wanna try?"

The man's nose scrunched up with indignation. "You're a bitch, Discord, ya know that?"

Discord smiled. "I was waiting for a compliment." She patted him on the head. "Good boy." He roughly grabbed her wrist and squeezed.

"Uh-uh, you don't get to touch me or treat me like some kid." He shoved her away, nearly knocking Discord off her stool.

"Says the kid I beat up all the time."

"Child abuse, 'cept I'm a god. Old, timeless..."

"Young, brainless."

The god shoved a finger in her face, saying, "Watch it."

Discord scowled. "You know very well I'm more powerful than you are. So don't test me, Deimos."

Deimos chugged his ale, got up, and stalked away across the tavern. None of the humans could see or hear them, but she watched him whisper in one man's ear, making him jump up, pinching his skin all over, crying, "Ah! The bugs, the bugs! Get 'em off me!"

"Calm down," said one of his companions. "There are no bugs."

Deimos casually walked around the table and behind the men, then whispered in the other man's ear.

"Wha-what's that? Is that a wolf? Did someone let wolves in here? No, no!" He grabbed a chair, brandishing it like a weapon. "Get back, beasts! Get back!"

Deimos held up a finger, telling Discord to wait for one more trick. He found a woman this time, who had stood up and tried to help. Deimos gently ran a finger down her cheek and leaned in. Murmured something that made her raise her arms out, sightlessly grasping the air, finally settling her hand on a chairback and say, "I..I can't see. I can't see!"

Deimos laughed - that aggravating cackle of his that split Discord's eardrums. He dodged the man who saw wolves, who was throwing his new weapon around, nearly hitting the patrons he was trying to protect. He approached one that he thought was a wolf, and they ran for the door. Other people appeared to be wolves to his eyes, and the blind woman and the man who was now scratching at his own skin with a knife, trying to kill the bugs, stumbled into the melee, and it was chaos.

The "young, brainless" god stood behind Discord, and made noises of sympathy pain.

"Ouch! That's gotta hurt." He hooked an arm around her waist and asked, "What's your fear, Discord?"

Discord squirmed out of his grasp. "What? You can't work your magic on me!" She looked around, gesturing to the scene. "Though I have to admit, this is pretty great."

Deimos giggled. "Isn't it, though?"

"Minor mischief, however," she said. She sighed, ducking a flying plate. "But mischief managed." She dodged another flying object, this one a mug full of ale. She didn't want to get beer on her dress, so she said, "Let's get outta here before someone gets wise."

"Like anybody can punish us. We're gods!"

"Fair enough. But I'm still leaving."

With that, Discord vanished in a puff of violet mist.

Back at her temple - one that was barely finished and so remote that very few worshippers ever visited - Discord watched a tiny green bubble grow in size until it popped and the blonde god appeared.

"I really do want to try it some time." Discord grinned and made a stabbing motion.

"I can think of much less deadly ways to use a knife," Deimos said, miming leaving a trail of blood along Discord's breast. She almost considered letting him, until he made one of his grotesque faces and laughed. Less boisterously or maniacally than his usual one, but still enough to put her off any thought of knife play, or any play at all. She could cut his tongue out, perhaps, but that would still allow him to make even more horrible noises. Perhaps she could cut out his larynx...

That wouldn't be fun, not really, not as fun as pushing the taller god down and straddling his hips, cutting open that embarrassing leather suit. She wondered what he'd look like in black, and blamed it on nostalgia. As she silently thought about it, Deimos had slung an arm around her shoulder and guided her towards the stone altar Discord's followers had placed there but never completed.

"Deimos..."

"Admit I impressed you back there," he said, his voice low, husky. He picked the petite brunette up and placed her on the altar, standing between her spread legs. "Come on, tell me I'm good."

"You're bad, Deimos. Very bad." But she said it playfully. "You get an 'A' for effort, though."

This wasn't what he wanted to hear. The god leaned in close, very close, and whispered in her ear.

"You've been forgotten. No one remembers you. Not the mortals, not the other gods. You're invisible to every living thing, but you won't die, not for a long time. When the world stops turning and stars burn out, and you think you're finally free, you become trapped in blackness, before you eventually just fade away."

Discord froze, eyes wide in terror. She swallowed thickly, felt a tightness in her chest and the feeling of such great sorrow she could pathetically cry on the floor for hours, days maybe. Mourn her own legacy.

She lay her head on his chest and choked back a sob.

"Yeah," she said hoarsely. "You're good."


End file.
